


To Have and To Hold

by Creme_Fraiche



Series: Obikin in Catholic School [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anxiety, Catholic Guilt, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Protective Padmé Amidala, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Romantic Fluff, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30025482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme_Fraiche/pseuds/Creme_Fraiche
Summary: "Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes groggily, breaking away from his verdant stare into the mirror image of himself in the bathroom cabinet, the luxurious cream bedding of his hotel suite peeking through the crack in the bathroom door.It had hit him all at once, like a mosquito on a highway colliding with the windshield of a semi-truck. He was splattered across the glass, just being smooshed side to side by a windshield wiper.He was getting married."In the lead up to his big day, Obi-Wan recollects the moments following high school where he realised just how much Anakin matters to him.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Obikin in Catholic School [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022947
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	To Have and To Hold

**Author's Note:**

> The boys are back by popular demand! People wanted a third instalment so here it is. This fic has been in the works for quite some time, apologies it took so long to get out! I really hope you enjoy it, thanks so much for choosing to read this fic.

_Til death do us part…_

That’s an intimidating statement. The concept of ‘forever’ is suddenly a lot more daunting when it’s staring you in the face. The idea that you are committing yourself to a bond with another person, in the eyes of God…

There it was again.

That word. That name. That _concept_. 

Obi-Wan had cast aside his belief in God a long time ago, his experience at school had taught him that if there was indeed a God, who the _hell_ does he think he is? 

He creates us in his image, yet above our encased prisons of flesh and bone, no single person is exactly like another. Identical twins exist, of course, but their spiritual selves are entirely unique.

So therefore, why do we shun those who stray from the flock? Surely this all-knowing, all-loving, omnipotent being should embrace the individual, as it is our individuality that makes us whole?

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes groggily, breaking away from his verdant stare into the mirror image of himself in the bathroom cabinet, the luxurious cream bedding of his hotel suite peeking through the crack in the bathroom door.

It had hit him all at once, like a mosquito on a highway colliding with the windshield of a semi-truck. He was splattered across the glass, just being smooshed side to side by a windshield wiper.

He was getting married. 

He was getting _married_. 

_To Anakin Skywalker. The love of his life._

It was a nullifying hit to the gut that he’d been on the less-than-pleasing receiving end of for the last six hours, pacing around the hotel suite knowing that by six o’clock that very evening, he would be Obi-Wan ‘Ben’ Skywalker-Kenobi. 

He hadn’t fully grasped it until that morning, and if he was being totally honest with himself he hadn’t fully sat down and comprehended it the entire engagement period. They’d been to venues, they’d arranged the guestlist, they’d handpicked the entire reception menu together. The wedding was equal parts Anakin as it was Obi-Wan, they’d done it all _together_.

And now, from that day on, they were about to bind themselves to do everything that way. 

_Together_. 

He couldn’t understand why, _suddenly_ , that was such an issue. He had been standing in the bathroom, staring at himself for what had felt like years, losing himself in the oceanic blackness of his anxiety and doubt. The claustrophobia of the parts of himself he’d buried deep down for so long, the thoughts and beliefs he’d forsaken all those years ago had, unfathomably, clung on to the very depths of his mind.

No matter how fast nor how far he ran, God would always be watching.

There had been a time, while he was studying at university, when his fear of the Almighty had surfaced in an almost catastrophic manner. He was on zoom with his parents while Anakin was at a sports meet, his father had disappeared off screen for a moment, answering a phone call. His mother had reassured him not to worry, but when he returned, he was distant.

He’d instantaneously become uncomfortable. He had beads of sweat on his forehead, and he seemed aggravated by the slightest thing that Obi-Wan did.

Days had gone by, he’d attended his classes and spent time with friends and, of course, Anakin, he’d done shifts at the campus coffee bar, but no contact from his parents. He’d texted them, he’d liked their Facebook posts; he only really ever used Facebook to check on his parents at that point.

And yet, nothing. 

Until, at last, he approached them with another zoom call, having asked Anakin to join him as a backup. His parents accepted the call, and when he challenged them on his father’s sudden change in behaviour, they’d fumbled over their words until they finally told the truth; the High Priest had taken an issue with Obi-Wan and Anakin’s relationship and had taken a _further_ issue with Obi-Wan’s parents being so accepting. 

Little had Obi-Wan known, his father had been fighting his corner since he’d left for college almost twelve months prior. Pastor Jinn had also been approached on the matter, and considering the antecedent incident in his previous parish, the High Priest threw the book at him pretty severely - the book being the Bible, that is. 

Obi-Wan’s father had battled the High Priest on more than one occasion, but Qui-Gon’s dismissal and his son’s open sexuality lined up at a very bad time, and now he himself was facing dismissal for conflict of interests. 

Obviously, this news took the wind out of Obi-Wan’s sails immediately. Anakin had attempted to console him, but he entered a complete emotional shut down, just like he had done in school.

_I got you out of this before, I’ll get you out of this again,_ Anakin had promised in reference to his boyfriend’s mental state, but Obi-Wan wasn’t so sure. The idea that his very existence was placing his father’s employment in jeopardy shook him to his core, and it angered him. He was angry at the High Priest, he was angry at the church, but worst of all he was most angry with himself. 

Had he been too foolish to believe that he could just abscond from his hometown and find his own identity, with Anakin by his side? Was it a mere pipe dream that they’d ever be able to love freely and unapologetically? 

That was when he found himself asking God, _why_?

_Why, when I’m most happy, must you tear it all away from me?_

He’d realised in that moment; you can take the boy out of the religious trauma, but you can’t take the religious trauma out of the boy.

“How fucked up is that?” He scowled as he stabbed his fork into the plate of eggs Anakin set before him, watching the yolk burst forth from its casing like ooze, “The worst part is, it would completely hold up in court. They can’t argue on religious grounds, it’s fucking…” He twisted the fork, the metal prongs screeching against the ceramic of the plate, causing Anakin’s back to arch as he sat opposite him, attempting to enjoy his own breakfast,

  
“Ben,” Anakin winced, extending a hand across the table and rested it atop his beloved’s tenderly, “I know you’re upset, and I agree, it’s an awful situation,” He was ever the charmer, cool and collected on the surface with a fire burning deep below, “But please, we can talk about this after breakfast, you need to eat.”

Obi-Wan’s hand clenched into a fist underneath Anakin’s, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared into his food. It made him feel sick, he couldn’t take his mind off of the issue. His stomach was in knots, the stress and tension of the last few days having twisted his insides like a meat grinder. He pulled his hand away, and stood, suddenly. He snatched his plate off the table and set it on the counter heavily, not uttering a single word against Anakin’s retorts until he paused in the doorway, gripping the doorframe tightly. 

Anakin half-rose from his seat, urging Obi-Wan to sit back down and eat, begging him to relax for just a minute. He attempted to usher him back into the room with a joke, teasing that God needed to get with the times, but Obi-Wan looked back at him over his shoulder, just enough that Anakin could see the tears already breaking free,

“Do you think He’s real, Ani?” Obi-Wan asked at last. Anakin straightened his legs, standing fully as he looked over the damaged man before him, the man he wanted nothing more than to spend his life with, the man he fell in love with. 

“Do you?” He replied, his voice breaking barely above a whisper as the dust settled in their kitchenette. Obi-Wan choked a laugh as his emotions began to overwhelm him, and he tilted his head to the ceiling,

“Y’know what? Sometimes I do,” He was smiling. He was smiling through his tears, a pained smile. It was the smile that was holding everything back, “He’s got a sick sense of humour.”

That feeling had only spiralled in the following days, Obi-Wan found himself becoming reclusive and unresponsive. He would lay in bed at night beside Anakin, who slept soundly while Obi-Wan remained awake, staring at the ceiling, willing the mattress to swallow his entire body, to suffocate him and remove him from the mortal realm.

The very fact that he was alive was a problem. It was an inconceivable notion that had never struck him before, and he wished it’d never struck him at all. He lay there, tears of silent anguish pooling at the outer corners of his eyes, before cascading down his temples until they soaked into his hair, or into his pillow. 

_Are you there, God?_

How long had it been since he’d asked that question? For how long had he maintained an even keel, a healthy mental balance that reassured him that higher powers _might_ exist, but God was purely an interpretation of said higher power. 

He could hear his adolescent self screaming into the walls of his mind, a deep aching that bloomed in the back of his skull until it had monopolised his entire head, neck and shoulders. He became restless, and even as he began to find slumber, Anakin told him over breakfast that he was thrashing about in his sleep, until one night the pair were jerked from their respite as Obi-Wan sent Anakin careening out of their bed, crashing into the hardwood floor with a heavy thud. While the collision was hard, Anakin suffered barely any harm, but it didn’t stop Obi-Wan from not only apologising profusely, but then proceeding to sleep on the couch for the rest of the night. 

And then the next night.

_And the night after that_.

Anakin tried to set Obi-Wan’s mind at ease about the incident, but the latter was unmoving. He remained on the couch for a solid week, until one night Anakin confronted him, asking him why he was so resistant to come back to their bed. Obi-Wan couldn’t find the words, but in his emotional state Anakin kept pushing, beginning to fear that their relationship was in danger. He couldn’t let this fall apart, not after everything they went through to get there.

“All I do is _hurt_ people,” Obi-Wan said at last, “Everything I do is _wrong_ ”.

It was like a knife in the chest to Anakin, hearing the man he so desperately wanted the best for think that he was such a burden. 

“That’s not true,” Anakin reassured him, “You didn’t hurt me.”

Obi-Wan could feel the roar building in his chest, the tingling sensation of his anxiety going supernova was coursing through his bones, he needed to get out, he needed to go somewhere, he needed air.

Anakin was trying to reason with him, but Obi-Wan’s senses were numbing one by one, his hands were tingling, his eyes were blurry, his ears were ringing, he couldn’t breathe. With a lurch, he shot off the couch, rushing for the bathroom and hunching over the toilet basin, retching hoarsely until he brought up fluid.

Anakin tentatively moved to the bathroom door, standing silhouetted against the frame as Obi-Wan vomited into the toilet. He wanted to be angry at him, he wanted to shake him and tell him how foolish he was being, but he just couldn’t. 

There was so much in the world that Anakin was angry at, so many things that made him want to bear arms and burn it all to the ground in a blaze of glory, but not Obi-Wan. 

He could _never_ be angry at Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan collapsed at the side of the toilet bowl, his throat feeling like shredded paper and his mouth like burning acid, and he sobbed. He rested his arm across the seat, pressing his forehead against his sleeve and he sobbed, he sobbed for all the pain he had inside, and all the anger he’d clung to for so many years. Anakin took a minute, allowing his boyfriend a moment of solitude, before crouching at his side and placing his hand softly atop his. Obi-Wan lifted his head from his arm, and looked at Anakin through strained eyes, his face was red and puffy, his hair clinging depressedly to his forehead, and he snorted loudly to cease his runny nose.

And Anakin smiled, not a charming smile, nor a pleased smile. It was the kind of smile that is uncontrollable, a smile that you don’t even know is there until you feel it. 

A smile that says, _you matter to me._

He took Obi-Wan into his arms, resting out of his crouching position into a kneel, and he held him as he bawled into his shoulder. He didn’t speak, he didn’t try to kiss him, he didn’t move. He remained there on the bathroom floor with Obi-Wan and held him for thirty minutes, until the tears stopped. 

  
He held him because he mattered. He mattered more than anything, or anyone.

They slept in their bed together that night, and Obi-Wan didn’t thrash about once. He lay with Anakin in his arms, the pair in complete stillness, the blue silence of the moon singing them into a sound slumber. 

The following morning, Obi-Wan awoke to a text from his mother, a lengthy text about his father and his fight against the High Priest. 

His father had not been dismissed, but he had resigned. She told Obi-Wan that his father had never been happier since he’d left his position, that he had chosen to pursue a career in local government, and above all else he wanted Obi-Wan to know that he loved him. 

It was that moment when Obi-Wan rolled over in bed to look at Anakin’s sleeping form beside him, still as the morning sun. He lay on his side and gazed over the beauty of the man before him, and he felt that tenderness return to his chest. He was reminded of just how important the life he had was, and that he wouldn’t change it for anything, because Anakin mattered to him. 

  * • •



“Obi-Wan?” A voice called from the suite, shaking him from his daydream with a jolt. He spun on his heels to look at the bathroom door, peeking through the crack to see Padmé standing in her bridesmaid dress, her hair tied up into a neat bun and a bouquet of white orchids in her hand. She looked around the room, her honey-glazed eyes eventually landing on the bathroom, “Obi-Wan, are you in there?” She asked, approaching the door and slowly pushing it open to move into the room, the click of her stilettos on the tiled floor urging Obi-Wan to back away slightly.

He hadn’t even realised the state of undress he was in, his shirt hanging pathetically off his shoulders with only one button done up, his tie slung around his neck and he hadn’t even got his pants on, just his boxers. 

Padmé looked him over, unable to resist the urge to pop a playful remark,

“Ben, I thought _you_ of all people would at least be somewhat ready,” She smiled warmly, scanning Obi-Wan’s face for a humoured response. However, when none was found, she felt her shoulders tense, “Are you alright?”

Obi-Wan just stared at her, his eyes blank as his brain filed through the rolodex of thoughts to find a reply that would satisfy Padmé’s question, but he came up naught. He didn’t have the words, his brain was fried. Padmé set her bouquet on the counter, gliding gracefully across the room to Obi-Wan’s side to take his hands, getting a closer look at him,

“Ben, what’s happened?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t get a response out of his mouth before Padmé was checking his temperature, a look of significant concern on her face. She was right to be panicking, after all she _was_ maid of honour, and if Obi-Wan was completely honest, this entire day wouldn’t have happened without her. 

“You’re burning up,” Padmé led him out of the bathroom, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed, “Do you need water? Open windows? Let me get Ani-”

“ _No,_ ” The words leapt out of Obi-Wan’s mouth before he’d even had the thought, and Padmé jumped back a step, the outburst catching her off guard. She looked over him, pushing open the window to let some of the sweet summer breeze circulate through the room. She knew Obi-Wan was nervous, and considering the journey he’d been on to get there it was no surprise. 

Carefully, she moved to the bed and sat beside him, taking her hand in his,

“Then talk to me, Obi-Wan.” She spoke softly, watching as the tension slowly released from Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulders, and he slouched, resting his head in his hands and pushing his hair back with a groan,

“I…” He tried, before turning to Padmé, managing a smile, “After all this time, I still can’t shake it.” He said, elaborating as Padmé tilted her head a touch, “I can’t shake Him. I’ve been running from my upbringing- _our_ upbringing,” He corrected himself, causing the woman beside him to smile, “We’ve all made our own way in the world, and discovered that… Y’know, faith doesn’t work for us, even though it’s what we were all raised to believe?”

Padmé didn’t interrupt him, and listened as Obi-Wan continued,

“We were all so convinced that there was only one God, one way of worship, one way of _life_ , back there,” He winced, looking down into his lap, “And I don’t think we can ever truly get away from it.”

“Things happened back then that needed to happen, Ben,” Padmé spoke after a brief silence, “Prom Night was a turning point for all of us, me, you _and_ Ani, but none of us saw that at first, hell,” She laughed under her breath, “I didn’t see it for a few years, not until Anakin got back in touch…” She trailed off, before squeezing Obi-Wan’s hand, “Do you ever get tired of running, Ben?”

The question sent a shiver down Obi-Wan’s spine, because he knew what Padmé truly meant. The reality was, this wasn’t the first time he’d run away from something. He’d been running from his fear of God and His judgement since he was a teenager, but there was a moment not too long ago, a situation that unfolded from a long sequence of misunderstandings and triggered a huge change in Obi-Wan’s life, where he ran like he had never ran before.

It started in their final year of study, Obi-Wan and Anakin had moved to the next town over from their college and found a decent apartment with a sensible renting price. They moved in, found employment and began to live as functioning, independent adults in the world. The time following Obi-Wan’s breakdown hadn’t been easy, but things only got worse when Anakin received news that his mother had passed away. 

It was a sucker punch for Anakin, but he kept his head high and they returned to their hometown for the funeral.

As expected, it was a challenging period, to place themselves back in the community that had shunned them so cruelly following their relationship going public. The only supporters they had were Obi-Wan’s parents, Pastor Jinn and Anakin’s mother, Shmi. It had been especially challenging for Anakin, whose entire friendship group had turned their backs on him overnight, even Padmé, who he thought had accepted him, gave him the cold shoulder. 

By the time graduation rolled around, their world had shrunk to the size of just them, thus spurring them to move away and seek a better life across the country. They didn’t think they’d ever have to go back, but once more, Obi-Wan found himself cursing God and his sick sense of humour.

The funeral party was small, immediate friends and family, which consisted only of Anakin, Obi-Wan, and a handful of Shmi’s co-workers from the hospital. Anakin hadn’t spoken most of the day, but Obi-Wan made sure to be there at his side and supporting him.

Their support of each other is what made them strong, it was the core of their relationship, or at least that’s what Obi-Wan had thought. While they were back in town, they stayed at Obi-Wan’s parents’ house, and one morning Obi-Wan awoke to find that Anakin was not by his side. He’d checked his phone to see if he had any missed calls, texts, but he had nothing. He got dressed and headed downstairs to meet his parents, and asked if they’d seen Anakin, to which his mother recalled seeing him leave earlier that morning, skipping breakfast.

_That’s not like Anakin_ , Obi-Wan had thought, _he never skips breakfast_. 

Regardless, he sat down with his parents and they enjoyed their food, before Anakin trundled in through the front door, taking his coat off as he moved into the kitchen area with a gentle smile,

“Morning Ben,” He leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, having regained some of his pep overnight, “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, fine,” Obi-Wan replied, watching Anakin carefully, “Where did you go this morning?”

“Oh, uh,” Anakin laughed, shaking his head as he hung his coat up on a hook on the wall, “Just out around town, needed some air.”

“If you need to talk about your mom, Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s mother mused from across the kitchen, having done her share of the clean up and now leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee held delicately in her hand, “Please don’t be embarrassed to talk to us, you’re practically family.” She smiled warmly, and Anakin returned the smile, nodding as he sat down beside Obi-Wan,

“Thank you, Mrs Kenobi, I’ll keep that in mind,” He flashed his pearly whites, before turning to look at Obi-Wan, who still had his eyes trained on him, “You okay, Ben?”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa, 

“Yeah, yeah,” He replied at last, looking down into his lap. He didn’t want to tell Anakin he was upset with him for going out without telling him, but part of him realised how that would sound. He didn’t own Anakin, they were equals, but… Anakin owed it to him to at least let him know that he was safe.

What if something had happened? The entire community knew they were back in town, it was no secret. He couldn’t shake the idea of Anakin being jumped or assaulted by the thugs and goons he used to hang around with at school.

As far as he was aware, not many people from their class had actually left town. Many of them settled down, had kids, and were living their picket fence dreams. 

People don’t leave towns like this. They’re enclosed communities, gated off from the rest of the world. He didn’t want to say _backwater_ but that’s exactly what it was. Anakin had once called it a gentrification station, the way large businesses had attempted to move in on the land but never really stuck around. The townsfolk were far too _mom and pop shop_ , so big name brands felt out of place, like they were photoshopped in at the last second. The only ‘brand’ that had survived the years was The Cantina, and neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin could deny their relief when they saw it was still standing.

This was a town where people live. They don’t visit, they don’t vacation. They live here. 

“Ben,” Anakin spoke again, Obi-Wan flinching as he was returned to reality, “Are you listening?” He asked, half laughing. Obi-Wan scrunched up his face, rubbing his eyes,

“Sorry, Ani, I zoned out… What did you say?” He looked up at his boyfriend, who looked back at him with eyes half lidded, and a vacant smile positioned on his lips,

  
“Nothing, it’s not important,” He replied, resting back in his chair and pulling his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and tapping away. Obi-Wan felt a twinge in the back of his neck, a spark. He ran his tongue across his teeth, and spent the rest of the morning kicking himself for not listening to Anakin.

He felt like a total asshole.

They needed to stay in town until Anakin had finished sorting out the remainder of his mother’s papers, and being the only family he had a considerable amount of work to do to get their affairs in order. As the days passed, however, Anakin became more distant to Obi-Wan, he was going out for hours at a time with no warning, and his only explanations didn’t drift very far from ‘oh I just needed some air’ or ‘I had a meeting with the executor’. 

Obi-Wan found himself watching the clock more than he was watching TV, counting the hours until Anakin sauntered through the door and gave another excuse, which Obi-Wan could never bring himself to question. 

He didn’t have the strength to confront Anakin, losing him was the only thing he feared more than, well, God. If Anakin was doing what he’d convinced himself he was doing, then he must have a good reason.

Obi-Wan mustn’t be satisfying him enough. 

_He wasn’t enough._

That single thought took Obi-Wan back in time, to all those years before, in his school days. The days when he wandered the halls, lost and remote, avoiding eye contact with every male student he crossed paths with, secretly hoping that he’d bump into Anakin Skywalker.

He fantasised about them running into each other between classes, and through the stormcloud of papers that fell down they’d lock eyes, and they’d fall in love.

But then, the other side of his brain would clip him round the ear and bring him back to reality, and he’d sink back into the dark he knew so well, the scolding anxiety swarming up his insides, whispering into the inside of his temples,

_You’ll never be good enough._

It rang about his head like a belltower, circling behind his eyes. It hurt, the words stuck in like claws into his flesh and dragged as it sank back down into the core of his being, laying in wait to take another pound of flesh. 

He hadn’t felt so insignificant, so empty and worthless, in such a long time. He hated it. He remembered how he would cry himself to sleep at night, thoroughly convinced he was defective. 

Ever since they left school, had he ever really been worth anything aside from Anakin’s boyfriend? And if he didn’t have that… Did he have anything? Was he anything? 

He once believed that it was God that made him whole, but when Anakin entered his life, that changed. It was Anakin who made him whole, when people saw them together, they saw two halves to one person. They existed as two shades of red, homogenous to the world around them, distinguishable only by those closest to them. Obi-Wan shared a heart with Anakin, and the idea that he was losing him was more than he could handle. 

Their time in town eventually came to a close, and Obi-Wan never questioned where Anakin had been going, never following a specific routine. Some days he’d disappear early in the morning and come home around lunch, other days he’d disappear after lunch and not come home until the evening. Some days he stayed with Obi-Wan the entire time. 

It was the inconsistency that was fucking with Obi-Wan’s head. If Anakin was cheating, surely he’d have to follow a stricter schedule, right? Or was it that he was working entirely to this _other person’s_ schedule, and went on their every beck and call when they had a free slot? 

He kicked himself for never asking the questions, and therefore never getting the answers he truly needed. They moved back to their apartment across the other side of the country, and never talked about it; not because Anakin didn’t want to, but because Obi-Wan never asked.

They graduated that summer, and moved to a big city in the west, to find prosperity and, maybe if Obi-Wan could find the strength to ask the questions he wanted to ask, they could build a life together. They were closer to their hometown than they had been before, but Anakin thought maybe enough time had passed where they could maybe visit more often? Of course, this fueled Obi-Wan’s fire of questions.

Questions. So many questions. Every day since they’d been back there, Obi-Wan was riddled with questions. Questions about where Anakin had been, questions about if Anakin truly loved Obi-Wan, questions about their future...

It was no secret that Obi-Wan dreamed of marrying Anakin, he’d dreamt of their wedding day so many times, longing for that special moment of walking down the aisle. He still dreamt of it, but he couldn’t deny it had been tainted slightly by the events of their hometown visit, even if he didn’t really know what Anakin was doing.

They’d been in their new home for about two years, they’d settled into the city and they’d both found gainful employment in their respective fields. Obi-Wan was following in his father’s footsteps, campaigning for local government as a diplomat and organiser, while Anakin had kept his charming charisma in his skillset, and worked as a leading sales executive at a car dealership.

Things were finally beginning to settle, and Obi-Wan had started to forget about Anakin’s disappearing act. He’d even started to drop hints about their future into conversations, which Anakin almost always reciprocated. The signs were all there, and for the first time in so many years Obi-Wan didn’t care what anyone else thought. He didn’t care what _God_ thought. 

Anakin was his one and only, and if he could spend every day of his life waking up in his arms, how much power did God truly hold?

That was when it started to happen again.

Anakin was coming home late from work, and on his days off he would be out for hours at a time. He always told Obi-Wan he was going out to get bread, or going to the gym, and while yes he did return with said bread, and was seen leaving with his gym bag, certain things didn’t add up.

The moment Obi-Wan began to feel the nagging doubt return was when Anakin said he was going to the gym, so Obi-Wan decided to use the free time to do some laundry and get the apartment nice and clean for Anakin to come home to, so they could have a more relaxed evening. He’d been midway through collecting Anakin’s pants from the basket when he heard something plastic hit the floor lightly. He tapped his foot around until he found what felt like a card underneath him, and slid it into view. It was Anakin’s gym card.

Obi-Wan could feel it happening again, he could sense the gnawing sensation of anxiety clutching onto his stomach. His temperature began to rise, he could feel his porcelain skin turning a deep flush of red, and to his surprise, he was _angry_. 

He was so angry, so furious that this could happen and that he was _letting_ it happen. Not this time. He would play it cool, he would be calm and composed, but he had a plan. He had to know what Anakin was doing, he _needed_ to understand. He wasn’t going to ignore it this time.

He wanted to know who it was with.

It was a day like any other, Anakin had woken up and showered, he’d got dressed and kissed Obi-Wan’s forehead before he left, under the impression he was leaving him asleep. 

The second the bedroom door closed, Obi-Wan threw himself out of bed, scrambling to get dressed as fast as he could, taking every opportunity he had to glance out the window to see if Anakin had left the building. He was midway through lacing up his shoes when he saw Anakin mosey down the street below, so he rushed to the lift, barely locking the front door of their apartment as he went. As the elevator descended the floors and Obi-Wan had a chance to fix his jacket and straighten out his hair slightly, he knew he was acting irrational. He had worked so hard to lead himself by calm and collected thought processes, but in these moments he was ruled by his heart, and he needed to know what Anakin was doing. 

This wouldn’t be like last time.

The elevator doors opened, and Obi-Wan rushed through the lobby, exchanging _extremely_ brief pleasantries with the doorman as he left. He kept his distance, following Anakin just enough so that if he turned around, he could jump behind a wall or a parked car, he felt like a crazy person. He’d never been so distrusting of Anakin in all the years they’d been together, but he couldn’t control the beast within. 

He followed Anakin for three blocks, until they reached a small diner, reminiscent of the Cantina back home, which turned out to be where Anakin was headed. Obi-Wan moved closer to the building, stopping by a phone box to glance into the window of the diner.

_Who are you meeting, Anakin…_

He watched as Anakin slid his jacket off his shoulders, looking around the room before a bright smile appeared on his lips, and he waved at a booth on the far side of the diner. Obi-Wan’s eyes ran across the room, and landed on the one person he _didn’t_ want to see.

Padmé Amidala, who hadn’t aged a day in the almost four years that had passed since he last saw her. She looked radiant, glamorous. What was she doing here? More importantly, why was Anakin _meeting_ her? He watched as she pushed her silky brunette hair back over her shoulder, and she rose from her seat to hug Anakin tightly as he approached.

Obi-Wan could feel his heart in his throat as he watched them sit down, laughing and smiling, and he wanted so desperately to believe it was something entirely innocent. He wanted to believe that Anakin was just reconnecting with Padmé on a friendly basis, she was a huge part of his life for a long time after all, but his anxiety had him fooled. His mind was replaying the same thoughts over and over again,

_She’s his ex._

_You don’t seriously think he’s just friends with her, do you?_

_He left her for you, what’s to stop him leaving you for her?_

He covered his ears, squeezing his eyes shut and begging the thoughts to cease, his back against the phonebox he’d been lurking behind. He had to get home, he couldn’t keep following Anakin like this, it would only hurt him more. 

_Unfortunately, that is not how this story goes._

Obi-Wan lurked outside the diner, watching as they joked and enjoyed their breakfast, seething with jealousy. He wanted to storm into the room and strangle her, show Anakin how strong he was, how he was _worth_ keeping.

He was on the verge of tears already, but when he saw them getting their coats he prepared for the hunt, psyching himself up to follow them and find out exactly what they were doing. He had to be strong. He was doing this for _them_. 

Anakin and Padmé’s first stop was a gift shop, where they spent a solid half an hour smelling different candles, with Anakin shaking his head at every option Padmé presented. It made Obi-Wan feel strangely smug, he couldn’t explain why but seeing Anakin refuse every suggestion gave him a weird sense of arrogance. 

They set the candles aside, and Padmé pulled a sales assistant aside, and the duo stood talking to her for a while, until they were seemingly pleased with their answers. Padmé was always great with people, she was so approachable and diplomatic… It only made him hate her more in that moment.

Their other stop of the day was the menswear department of a large store in the city, where Anakin was seemingly trying to find a suit. Obi-Wan felt somewhat hurt by the fact he didn’t ask _him_ to help pick out a suit, what did Padmé know that he didn’t? The anger he’d felt that morning was beginning to morph into a violent envy, pulsing behind his eyes as he watched them from behind clothing racks and displays. 

He’d managed to keep himself in balance, but the sight that put him on the verge of breaking was Anakin disappearing into a changing room, with Padmé standing outside, waiting patiently. It wasn’t so bad, until Anakin’s hand appeared from behind the curtain to guide Padmé into the changing room, the pair disappearing behind the sheet of fabric.

Obi-Wan went sick, and his entire body felt like lead. There it was. It had to be. Why else would Anakin pull her into the bay? It was the only logical reason, it was the only thing that made sense in Obi-Wan’s head. 

_Anakin didn’t love him anymore_.

Finally giving in to the pleas from his rational brain, he left the department store right there and then, getting out before he hurt himself even more. The entire time, it had been pain and more pain, seeing them together. 

The french call it, _la douleur exquise_ , meaning the exquisite pain. Used commonly in BDSM communities, Obi-Wan had put himself through a refresher course in emotional sado-masochism, but while the pain was consensual on his part, it was anything but exquisite.

Why her? Why now? His entire walk back to their apartment building was plagued by questions and his irrational thinking running into an emotional overdrive, had Shmi’s passing triggered some distant longing for the past in Anakin’s heart? Had the loss of his mother caused him to crave a female figure in his life?

Obi-Wan feared so much, but losing Anakin was more than he could bear. He wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t. All the anger he’d felt before had faded, subsided for something new. Now he felt only sadness. He felt a deep, painful sadness that he hadn’t felt before. It was like he was coming to terms with a loss he hadn’t experienced, already resigning himself to the idea that Anakin was having an affair with Padmé and planning to leave him.

Had he jumped to a conclusion? Absolutely. Looking back, he was ashamed of his behaviour, but at that moment it was what made sense. His fear and anxiety consumed him, devouring all aspects of logic and reason in his heart. He’d experienced so much sadness in his life, but this was unlike anything he’d ever felt. He walked for what felt like hours, until he arrived back at their apartment. 

However, being alone was the worst thing he could have done, and being alone with his _thoughts_ was even worse. He sat in the living room, mulling over the events, and the mulling became stewing, and the stewing became marinating. By the end of it, Obi-Wan was so deep in his festering thoughts he was a rancid ham hock, sinking into the juices of his own dark emotions.

The reality was, he didn’t want to be sad anymore.

He couldn’t face it, not without Anakin. Anakin had been his rock through everything since school, and he’d done his best to be the same for him. He’d been one half of a whole, and without the other half, wasn’t he still just… A half? A missing piece. Adrift in the city, alone. He wouldn’t be able to afford the rent on the apartment by himself, either. There was so much he was assuming, he hadn’t even realised he was assuming. He was catastrophizing, a phrase he’d learn later on in life that applied heavily to his own mental gymnastics. 

However, in that moment, he didn’t realise just how far he was reaching, and he did exactly what logically made sense to him.

He wiped his eyes, and booked a ticket on his phone for the next train back home, a two hour trip that he believed would let him escape from all this anxiety. He packed a bag, and ripped a sheet of paper from a notepad on the kitchen counter, writing out a note for Anakin.

He couldn’t be angry, there was no room in his heart for anger, and as two single tears dropped thumped into the paper, he signed his name. 

_Goodbye, love._

  * • •



Anakin arrived back at the apartment not long after Obi-Wan had left, grinning with the leftover excitement from his day lingering in his spirit,

“I’m home!” He called out, closing the door behind him, feeling the sudden change in atmosphere as soon as he stood in the apartment properly. He set his bag down and looked around, a frown rising to his lips, “Ben?” He called out, moving into the main room of their home, his pulse beginning to quicken, “Ben, are you here?” He was becoming anxious, and he moved into the bedroom, looking over the bed to see the note lay on the bedspread. 

_Please, don’t be what I think it is._

He took slow steps towards the bed, taking the note in his hand, the sound of crumpling paper almost deafening in the otherwise silent apartment. He didn’t want to open it, for fear of what was inside. Was it a ransom note? A threat? A… Goodbye?

His fingers were trembling as he steadily unfolded the paper, eyes scanning the handwriting he immediately recognised as Obi-Wan’s, and he felt his heart turn to ice.

_My beloved Ani,_

_By the time you read this letter, I will be on a train going far away. I never thought this day would come. I didn’t want to believe our love was disposable but I understand. You chose her, and that’s okay. I’m going home, Ani. I don’t hate you. I’ve left my keys and phone, and I want you to promise that you’ll be happy with her._

_I love you, Anakin. I understand that I can’t have you._

_God was right after all._

The trembling had expanded from his fingertips to his hands as he read the note, a mixture of dread, regret and remorse burning hot in his chest. He turned, and sat down heavily on the foot of the bed, the note still in his shaking hands as he felt himself break. His heart shattered, and he whimpered, holding himself together until he couldn’t. He cried, burying his face in his hands, incensed inside at himself for not telling Obi-Wan the truth. 

Back home, he’d run into Padmé out on a morning walk, and the two found they were able to reconcile as adults, and they went for a few drinks and brunches while Anakin was still in town. He’d never told Obi-Wan, thinking that it wasn’t really important, but deep down knowing that he wasn’t ready to introduce him to Padmé properly, that it might be too much too quick. 

He’d remained in contact with Padmé for years on and off, the two chatting once, maybe twice a week over the phone, purely as friends, until Padmé announced she was coming to stay with a friend in the city for a few weeks, just to get out of town for a while, so they agreed once she was settled they’d start getting lunch, or dinner together.

Padmé had always been under the impression that Obi-Wan was aware of their meetings, but the reality was Anakin always backed down before he confessed to Obi-Wan, having put it off for so long now that he feared the reaction would be volatile, but if he’d only known the damage _not_ telling him would do, he would have come clean immediately.

Once again, he was filled with regret, just like in school. He had an awful habit of putting things off, and telling Obi-Wan about Padmé wasn't the only thing he’d been postponing for a while.

He fumbled about in his coat pocket, finding the small, velvet black box he’d taken to show Padmé on her last morning in the city, flipping open the lid to reveal the silver band he’d intended to propose to Obi-Wan with. He’d taken it with him to get an outside opinion, and Padmé had been extremely positive, believing that Obi-Wan would never say no. 

He’d gone with her to find a new suit and some candles, Obi-Wan’s favourite candles, to decorate the bedroom with, to create the right atmosphere for when he intended to pop the question. He couldn’t take Obi-Wan with him for that, obviously, so Padmé was his best option. 

But it didn’t change the fact that he’d kept another secret from him. He hadn’t been honest about seeing Padmé, and he understood why Obi-Wan reacted the way he did. He only wished he could go back and tell him the truth. 

_Wait, Ben’s phone is still here._

If he could find out what time the train was, he might be able to stop him at the station. He dashed out of the bedroom, leaving the note to fall to the floor behind him, searching the apartment until he found Obi-Wan’s phone and keys on the coffee table, neatly set down on the glass. Anakin felt a shot in his chest, the reality of potentially losing Obi-Wan having set in, and he became frantic. He snatched the phone off the table, and attempted to guess the passcode, using his birthday, Obi-Wan’s birthday, Obi-Wan’s mother’s birthday, but nothing worked. He paced about the lounge area, wracking his brain, 

_Think, Anakin. You don’t have much time._

It hit him suddenly. What day was their senior prom? 

_The night we met._

He pulled his own phone out of his pocket, and dialled Padmé’s phone number, begging her to pick up,

“Ani?” Padmé’s voice rang through, and Anakin let out a sigh of relief,

“Paddy, thank _fuck_ ,” He winced, “Do you remember the date of our senior prom?” He asked quickly, to which Padmé paused, her frown audible through her tone of voice,

“Uh, I might do, let me check,” She replied, the sound of her tapping her phone screen reverbing through the receiver, “I just got home, is everything okay?”  
  
Anakin ran his hand through his hair, adrenaline pumping,

“I… Haven’t been honest with you, Ben didn’t know we were meeting,” He could feel her about to chastise him, but he jumped back in immediately, “And I _know_ that was wrong, okay? I just… I put it off for so long, there was never a good time, just, please tell me that date.”

Silence from the other end of the line, until,

“Why do you need to know, Ani?”

_She knew something was wrong._

“Ben saw us,” He admitted, finally, “And he thinks we’re having an affair, and he’s left me,” His voice was breaking, he was powerless to stop the floodgates opening, “He’s left his phone and his keys, I’m trying to get into his phone,” He couldn’t stop the words pouring out his mouth, nor the tears pouring out his eyes, his throat was hoarse, “He’s getting a train back home and I can’t lose him Padmé, I can’t-” He choked, coughing dryly into his fist, falling over himself to land heavily on the sofa. Padmé’s heart sank as she listened to Anakin sob through the phone, but she knew that she had played a part in this as well, and saw a moral obligation to help, even if it was Anakin’s fault, because like it or not she still cared about Anakin, and therefore she cared about Obi-Wan too.

“Seventh of June, twenty-fourteen.” She said at last, “That’s the date, okay Ani? Will you stay on the phone with me?”

“Y...Yes,” Anakin managed through his weeping, picking up Obi-Wan’s phone again and entering the date in the form of a six-digit passcode, jumping up onto his feet as the home screen unlocked, “It worked, it _worked_!” He had a brightness in his voice again, and Padmé smiled, remaining on the line with him, “Okay, okay, so, emails…” Anakin trailed off, opening Obi-Wan’s emails and seeing the ticket confirmation, “He’s printed the tickets off, but the train is in…”

Padmé felt a knot in her stomach, praying to God that the train hadn’t left yet, praying that Anakin had time to stop Obi-Wan.

“...He’s gone. The train was half an hour ago.”

_Shit._

A numb silence passed over the phone call, Padmé wanting to speak but unable to find the words. She couldn’t find them, but part of her felt there would never be any words to comfort the pain Anakin was feeling at that moment. 

“Padmé,” Anakin spoke weakly, his voice barely there, “I said he’s gone.”

“I heard, Ani,” She matched his volume, speaking softly in a last ditch effort to comfort him. Her brain was too rattled to think of anything to respond with, the last five minutes had shaken her more than she expected, “Are you okay?”

There was a roar, followed by a smash, followed by the same numb silence.

Anakin had put his foot through the coffee table, shattering it. He was shaking. He wasn’t thinking straight. All he thought was _Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan_ , he needed him. 

He couldn’t think of a life without him.

“Ani,” Padmé spoke again, finding a hail mary of a plan in the back of her mind, “He’s coming here, right? I could… Meet him. I could speak to him.”

Anakin’s breath was shaky as he raised the phone to his ear, swallowing the lump in his throat heavily,

“You’d do that?”

“Of course I would,” Padmé winced, “But do you _want_ me to?”

Truthfully, the idea of meeting Obi-Wan under these conditions scared the hell out of her, she didn’t know how he’d react to seeing her, and she really didn’t know if it was a good idea at all, but she knew she wanted to help.

“What next, though?” Anakin sniffed, wiping his cheeks, “You meet him at the station, what next?”

Padmé bit her lip, and she did what any good friend did in a situation like this, she pulled an idea out of her ass,

“You get on the next train, and you should be here by tonight, right? Wear your suit, bring the ring, and you can leave the rest to me.”

The love was real, because even if they weren’t _in_ love, they still mattered to each other. Anakin exhaled slowly, regaining his composure and smiling,

“Thank you, Padmé…”

“Consider it a wedding gift,” Padmé teased, checking her watch, “Obi-Wan will be here in just over an hour, I’ll do what I need to do and meet him,” She looked out her window, and her enthusiasm began to take flight, “I’ll text you a meeting point, okay? Now come get your future husband.”

The line went dead, and Anakin looked at the glass on the floor, finding a calming metaphor in the shattered fragments he’d created. He broke the table, but he also broke down the final boundary keeping him from making a future with the man he loved.

He’d held himself back for so much time, never knowing the right moment, when really he knew that in life there are no _right moments_ and he should have just _asked_. 

There was no time to be deep though, he could do all of his ruminating on the train. He began to get undressed messily, grabbing the bag with his suit in from beside the door and getting changed.

_I’m coming for you, Ben._

  * • •



Obi-Wan stared out the window as his train began to near his hometown, he’d watched as the warehouses and apartment complexes gradually became fields of wheat and sunflowers, as the industrial landscape gave way for nature’s bounty. It was one of the _very_ few things he missed about his quiet hometown, the vast openness of the land was oddly comforting now he’d seen the alternative. He would have laughed had it not made him look like a crazy person sitting alone on a train, but the view he’d once had of college students leaving town and returning as different people had been so frivolous, yet almost entirely accurate in retrospect. 

He left the simple life to pursue a simpler life, one where only Anakin mattered to him, and only he mattered to Anakin.

He glanced up at the auto-scrolling announcements of the next station, spying his stop on the ‘coming up’ list. He didn’t have much time left on the train, and he didn’t know how his parents would react to his sudden arrival, he hadn’t told them he was coming. He could already feel the judgemental gaze of townsfolk on him, the distant whisper of gossip haunting his every move. 

_God has a plan for folks like you, Obi-Wan Kenobi._

It burned him to know that even now, running away from one problem, he was running head first into a different problem he’d worked so hard to forget.

Indifferently, he stood, and pulled his travel case out of the overhead luggage rack, making his way through the aisle to get off the train once it had pulled into the station.

Thoughts of Anakin had been boiling in the back of his mind the entire journey, and he had wondered if he’d overreacted. He didn’t even know if Anakin _was_ cheating, he’d just made the assumption, but he was here now. He couldn’t ask the driver to turn the train around, and the next train going back to the city in the opposite direction wasn’t until tomorrow now anyway.

The train came to a halt, and Obi-Wan stepped out onto the platform, the fresh country air filling his lungs instantly, surprising him with it’s lack of pollution and exhaust fumes. He hadn’t smelled fresh air since he last visited, and that had been almost three years ago.

It felt kind of good to be home, really.

He made his way across the bridge to the other side of the tracks and into the station, eyeing the taxi rank outside when,

“ _Ben!_ ” A voice called, catching Obi-Wan off guard as he turned to the side, his legs rooting to the floor as he saw Padmé approaching. He’d thought about this moment on the train, the moment he finally saw her and he could tell her what he really thought of her, how he could really lay into her and yet, the only words he could find were,

“P...Padmé? What are you…?”

“Look, I know you’re upset, but I promise you, it’s not what you think,” Padmé was immediately reeling off lines like she was reading a script as she walked over to him, but she didn’t seem angry or upset, she was mellow and welcoming, “I know what you’re thinking, and I will explain everything on the way,”

“ _What?_ On the way where-” Obi-Wan tried to argue, but Padmé already had her arm linked with his, leading him out of the station, turning to him once there were outside and holding his arms in her hands,

“Ben,” She spoke with sudden gravity, looking him straight in the eye, “I need you to trust me, okay?”

Obi-Wan was confused, he was shaken. He was overwhelmed, but something, somehow, told him that he should trust Padmé. A little voice in his head reassured him that she wanted to help. He didn’t want to, but looking into her eyes, he softened,

“...Okay.”

Padmé beamed ear to ear, squeezing Obi-Wan’s arms excitedly,  
“Great! You won’t regret it, I promise.” She jumped up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, leading him down the street. They’d never really had any interaction before, but in a strange way he knew she was being genuine. She’d been a pillar of the student government when they were at school, and she always fought for fairness and equality.

He’d never really had the guts to speak to her after he sort of broke up her relationship. 

Padmé walked with Obi-Wan down the street, and took him to her house to drop off his case, telling him that they were ‘going to be out for a while’. Obi-Wan didn’t understand, but he thought that since he’d come this far he may as well continue.

They began to wander aimlessly through the quiet small town streets, and Padmé began to really open up, explaining that while yes, she and Anakin had been spending a lot of time together, it wasn’t at all what Obi-Wan had thought, they were simply catching up on old times (which of course was a lie, but she couldn’t tell him the truth, not yet), and she’d wanted Anakin’s opinion on some things before she came back into town, as she lived there with her fiancé, Bail. 

Obi-Wan had vague memories of Bail from school, he was one of Anakin’s posse, a formidable character with a tender heart, or at least that’s what he heard.

Padmé went onto explain that Anakin had called her, she spared Obi-Wan the more emotional details so as not to upset him, but outlined that he was devastated that he hadn’t been entirely honest with Obi-Wan about their meetings, and how long they’d been reconnecting for. 

It hurt knowing how upset he’d made Anakin, it was never his intention to hurt him, even if he didn’t know just how upset Anakin had truly been. He wanted him to be happy, and he’d genuinely believed by leaving that was the best thing for him. 

He was already beating himself up for believing he’d escalated the situation unnecessarily, but now he really wished he’d just asked the questions in the first place.

If only Obi-Wan knew how much regret had filled Anakin that day, and how they were both beating themselves up over it. They truly mattered to one another, and neither one really fully comprehended just how much. 

Their walk around town lasted what felt like hours, the sun was beginning to set by the time they actually came to a stop. Obi-Wan’s feet were aching like nothing else, he was tired both physically and emotionally, but he’d had a really great talk with Padmé about everything, and that really was _everything_. 

Padmé knew far more than Obi-Wan realised, putting into perspective for just how long she and Anakin had been in contact. Anakin had spoken to her about so much, he must have really trusted her. She’d mentioned that everything started following Shmi’s death, and that the whole situation had put a lot of things in perspective for Anakin, about his life leading up to that point. 

He truly, genuinely loved Obi-Wan, and sometimes he thought he wasn’t good enough for him. It had been just the two of them for so long, he’d needed an outside voice, somebody to vent to about his fears and anxieties, because he never wanted to cause Obi-Wan any distress. 

Anakin had fears about the future. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to properly support Obi-Wan, just like he feared he would never support his mom back in school. He put so much pressure on himself that he was crushing himself under the weight of his own expectations every day. He put on a charismatic facade for Obi-Wan, who had anxiety of his own, because he believed Obi-Wan’s problems were more important than his own.

“I just wish he’d told me,” Obi-Wan said with a heavy sigh, looking up at the sky in the street they’d stopped in, “I love him, Padmé, I really do, but if he can’t be honest with me, what are we doing?” 

“You’re just getting started,” Padmé replied with a reassuring smile, placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly, “He put your needs before his. He did it out of love, Ben. Don’t beat yourself up for Anakin’s decisions.”

She was right, and Obi-Wan knew that she was right. That didn’t stop him from feeling guilty, however, and that was all Obi-Wan needed, _more_ guilt. 

“Where are we, anyway?” Obi-Wan asked, looking around the street they’d stopped on. He vaguely recognised it, like it was somewhere he hadn’t been in a long time. Padmé checked her phone, and a playful grin rose to her plump, cherry lips,

“Follow me, you’ll realise in a second.” She winked at Obi-Wan, causing him to frown. He hated surprises, and this had _surprise_ written all over it. 

_What exactly had she done?_

They turned a corner into an empty parking lot beside a large one-storey building, the low evening sun casting a warm glow across the surrounding area. Obi-Wan’s eyes scanned the box of a building before him, recognising the large, heavy metal door on the side of it, accompanied by a strangely familiar dumpster. 

He furrowed his brow, approaching the building beside Padmé, the low hum of a stereo leaking through the walls. They arrived at the door, and Obi-Wan reached out to pull on the handle, the music becoming louder as they stood outside. He was anxious, he didn’t know what was happening and he knew even less why he was going along with it.

Was this a trap? Were they going to beat him up? Had Padmé just been lying this entire time? 

_There was only one way to find out_. 

He pushed open the door, and the suddenly very loud music was accompanied by a lighting rig, with balloons and confetti all over the floor. There was a table off to the side with drinks and snacks laid out, and a large banner was hanging from the ceiling, reading ‘ _Prom 2014’._

It all came rushing back to Obi-Wan like a river rapid; the lights, the music, the snack table. 

It was a recreation of his senior prom, right there in the old school gymnasium.

He turned to Padmé with wide eyes, already welling up with emotion,

“Padmé, did _you_ do this?”

Padmé snickered, folding her arms across her chest with pride,

“I did this part, yes. But the next part was all _his_ idea.” She nodded over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and he turned quickly, to see Anakin standing beneath a spotlight, his hand outstretched in Obi-Wan’s direction, a smile of pure catharsis on his face.

Obi-Wan felt like he could collapse as he saw Anakin standing there, his knees buckled and his chest felt tight. He was crying and he hadn’t even realised it.

Anakin was there. He was _right there_. 

“We never got to have a prom, Ben,” Anakin spoke warmly, resisting the urge to snicker as Padmé ushered Obi-Wan towards him, “I want to change that, so…” He paused as Obi-Wan stood before him under the lights, gazing into his lover’s eyes and taking his hands in his, time seeming to stop as they stood together, “May I have this dance?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes glistened with tears, reflecting the overhead light like tiny crystals on his face, and he nodded, never once taking his eyes off of Anakin, for fear that he’d disappear when he looked away,

“Yes, Ani,” His voice cracked, but he held himself together, “You may.”

Padmé took a step back to lean against the wall, taking a moment as the music started to look around the room, an overwhelming sense of pride filling her body. She did this, but more importantly for the first time, she did something for someone else that didn’t benefit her in the slightest. 

She dabbed a tear out of the corner of her eye, and watched as Anakin and Obi-Wan began to slow dance in the centre of the room, having their own prom right there and then, taking back a moment in their lives they never got to experience.

A door on the next wall opened and closed, and Padmé glanced over to see Bail sneaking into the room with a grin on his face. He crept over to her side, glancing at the lovebirds in the centre,

“Everything went off without a hitch then, huh?”

Padmé looked up at her fiancé and laughed quietly, her eyes bright,

“Yes, thanks to you, Principal Organa.” She teased, before gently kissing him on the lips. 

Anakin and Obi-Wan never took their eyes off of each other as they slowly danced, and in that moment they felt the universe moving around _them_. There was nothing else that mattered in that moment, nothing except them. They were there, existing as one. Everything in their lives had led up to that moment, and as Anakin led Obi-Wan into a spin, he turned him to hold his back to his front, resting his chin on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, embracing him as they swayed to the music. 

Nothing had ever felt so right. 

Obi-Wan didn’t care who was watching, Padmé, Bail nor God. God was an idea, God was a concept, but this? What he had with Anakin was real. What they shared was an existence no belief could ever override. 

Anakin span Obi-Wan, before letting go as the other man turned to look at him, a wave of confusion washing over his expression,

“Ani?” Obi-Wan asked, his heart rising to his throat as he watched Anakin step back,

“Ben, there’s something I want to say… Something I’ve wanted to say for a very long time,” Anakin began, reaching into his pocket slowly, “You matter to me more than anything else in the world, and… When I lost my mom, it really opened my eyes to a lot of things, and one of them is that, there really is no time for embarrassment,” He smiled, pulling the box from his pocket, “You are my world, so, I guess what I’m asking is,” He lowered himself down onto one knee, and Obi-Wan nearly screamed, covering his mouth in shock, “Obi-Wan Kenobi…”

Padmé and Bail watched from the wall, Padmé squeezing Bail’s hand tightly. 

“Will you marry me?”

It was the ‘yes’ heard around the world. Obi-Wan lost track of how many times he said yes until Anakin silenced him with a kiss, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him, for the first time, as his fiancé.

It had meant so much more than words could ever possibly describe, so when Obi-Wan sat on the foot of that bed in the hotel in the present day, he couldn’t fathom ever running away from it again. He had an irrational fear of God, and the thing about irrational fears is, they don’t go away just because you tell them to.

His guilt would always be a part of him, but his religion experience was taught, it was put onto him. His love for Anakin was never forced, never pressured, it was something that they created together. 

His love for Anakin would always be stronger than his fear of God. They were strong, but they were stronger _together_.

Padmé rested her hand on Obi-Wan’s lap, 

“I’m going to check on the rest of the party, okay? I’ll see you downstairs.” She leaned across and kissed him on the forehead, her lips remaining there for just a moment, “He chose you, Ben. Never forget that.” She whispered, before leaning back with a diplomatic smile and standing from the bed. She grabbed her bouquet on her way out, and closed the door behind herself.

Obi-Wan watched her go, and realised what a fool he was being, because once again Padmé was right. She had a knack for it, honestly. He slid off the bed onto his feet, and took seven deep breaths in, and seven deep breaths out. He found his centre, and began to get dressed, properly this time.

_He was getting married._

  * • •



A knock at the door caused Obi-Wan to turn, he’d just finished fixing his tie. He was dressed head to toe in black and he’d never felt more dashing, his hair quaffed perfectly to the side and his beard neatly trimmed and styled.

“Mister Kenobi,” A voice called from behind the door, “We’re ready for the first look photos.” 

“I’ll be downstairs in a moment,” Obi-Wan called back, turning back to the mirror to adjust his cufflinks. The ‘first look’ was a moment suggested by Anakin, surprisingly, as they weren’t having a traditional ‘walk down the aisle’ wedding. They agreed to stand back to back in the bandstand in the hotel’s grand gardens, and turn to each other at the same time to see each other for their ‘first look’ in their suits. 

It was kind of cute, Obi-Wan had to admit. 

He gave himself the final once over in the mirror, and made his way to the door, pausing by the nightstand as he spotted the bible that sat atop it. He picked it up, and he smiled, giving a slight laugh as he opened the drawer, dropped it inside and slammed it shut.

_It’s just a book, after all._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope that you enjoyed it. Comments, bookmarks and kudos are massively appreciated, thank you again for all your love and support. 
> 
> xoxo  
> Creme
> 
> P.S. if anyone would like a second chapter of this about the wedding (and the wedding night) don't be afraid to comment!


End file.
